


Ride

by chaostheoryy



Category: House M.D.
Genre: AKA my kryptonite, And Wilson is a sucker for falling into House's trap, Car Sex, Episode: s01e15 Mob Rules, Frottage, House is a bold and seductive individual, M/M, Public Sex, Season 1, Season 1 Episode 15, Sex in the Corvette, Sex with classic rock music in the background, Wilson has a thing for House in his car
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 03:10:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3472244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaostheoryy/pseuds/chaostheoryy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seeing Gregory House drive around in a '66 Corvette convertible was enough to make Wilson go weak in the knees. So what happens when Wilson is brought along for a ride?</p><p>Based on Season 1, Episode 15 (Mob Rules).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ride

                      To say Wilson was jealous of House's new car would be completely wrong. He wasn't jealous (well perhaps he was a little envious but that was beside the point). He was awestruck. Seeing Gregory House drive around in a '66 Corvette convertible was enough to make Wilson go weak in the knees. Just when he was beginning to think it was possible for him to overlook his attraction to the man, those damn mob boys had to go and buy him a Corvette. Now it would be impossible for Wilson to push past his pining for the diagnostician, especially when House went around showing his car off at every possible moment.

                      One of those particular moments came as Wilson exited the hospital on a Friday evening. He was chatting to one of the nurse's about his upcoming conference when he heard the roar of an engine and blaring music. His eyes snapped upward just in time to see House pull up, his bright red Corvette impossible to miss against the dull backdrop of the hospital driveway. Wilson's brow furrowed as he watched House put the car in park and drape his arm over the back of the seat, his head bobbing slightly to the beat of the drums in Jimi Hendrix's "All Along the Watchtower".

                      "Need a ride, baby?" House called out.

                      The nurse Wilson had been talking to was completely taken aback and pointed at herself. House, however, waved her off. "Not you. The sex pot standing next to you."

                      Wilson bid the nurse a quick apology and farewell before he made his way over to the car, the music practically blowing his ear drums out. "You know owning a classic car doesn't mean you have to be obnoxious," Wilson remarked as he leaned over the passenger door and lowered the volume.

                      House gave him a look of fake confusion. "Offering rides to people makes me obnoxious? Odd. I always thought it was a kind gesture. My old woman must've tricked me."

                      Wilson rolled his eyes. As irritated as he was acting (and wished he actually was), he couldn't find the strength to give House a proper lecture. Not when the man looked that good in his leather jacket.

                      "What exactly are you doing here?" Wilson asked, trying to sound as skeptical and annoyed as possible. In all honesty, it was impossible for him to label a moment like this as annoying. Any opportunity he had to see House seated in that car would be a damn blessing.

                      "I told you," House replied, "I'm offering you a ride. Thought we might go for a cruise and hit the drive-thru. Unless, of course, you'd rather hit up a strip club. I find it hard to resist such a request." House flashed Wilson an instigating grin. "Whataya say daddy-o?"

                      "I'll come with you if you promise to stop using 60's slang," Wilson scoffed despite the slight grin on his face.

                      House smirked at the oncologist, amused by how easily Wilson caved in to his every request. "As much a kill-joy as ever," he teased. "Hurry up and get in before I change my mind."

                      Wilson immediately climbed in, placing his bag between his feet as he settled into the leather seat. "I'm surprised you didn't call me in as a consult today," Wilson said as the pulled away from the curb, "That's gotta be the first time in weeks. Were you actually interested in your patients or has Cuddy reigned in the leash?"

                      "As much as it pains me to say this, Cuddy isn't the problem. Your pal Vogler is watching me a little too closely." He looked over at Wilson briefly and gave him that silly expression he always wore when he told a joke or made a ridiculously sarcastic remark. "I'm beginning to think he might have a crush on me."

                      Wilson laughed. "Right. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before he starts leaving love notes in your locker." Even joking about that made Wilson feel bitter inside. He knew very well that Vogler despised House but the mere idea of having someone else (especially another man) flirt with him made Wilson alarmingly jealous.

                      "We might even make a cute couple," House continued jokingly.

                      Wilson's eyes narrowed slightly at the comment. "I could name a dozen other people you'd look a hell of a lot better with," he countered without thinking.

                      House's eyebrow cocked at the alarmingly bitter tone. "Oh yeah? Like who? _You_?" He asked, throwing the oncologist an intrigued look.

                      Wilson's eyes widened, his cheeks feeling far too warm considering the cool wind that blew against his face as they drove. "I-I wasn't going to say me, but, um-" He stammered before finally surrendering, "Y'know what, yeah. What the hell. We'd make a way better couple than you and Vogler."

                      He waited for a moment, expecting House to either make a sarcastic comment about his willingness to admit such an opinion or disagree with him. But he didn't say anything. Wilson wasn't sure what to think of the lack of response. It was just so out of character. The oncologist looked over at his companion to find House smirking, an amused and almost proud twinkle in his eyes. "What are you looking so smug for?" Wilson inquired with a skeptical expression.

                      House let out a deep chuckle. "Because it's always entertaining finding out a man is secretly gay for me."

                      Wilson's heart felt as if it had attempted a spastic cartwheel in his chest. Oh God. Just what he needed. House joking about him being gay for his best friend. "I believe the term for being attracted to women _and_ men is bisexual," he said in a low tone.

                      "Ah, how ignorant of me."

                      "In case you haven't noticed, I never actually said I was attracted to you," Wilson quipped.

                      "No you didn't. But no man in his right mind would say he would make a good couple with another person if he wasn't at least slightly attracted to them," the diagnostician retorted.

                      Just then they came to a stop at one of the lights which, to Wilson's dismay, allowed House the opportunity to directly look at him. The scruffy-faced man draped his right arm over the back of his seat and gazed at Wilson with curious, electric-blue eyes. "Admit it," he coaxed, "You have the hots for me."

                      Wilson was taken aback. "Wh-what? No! I don't-" He swallowed, struggling to find a way to even respond to House's bold (and not at all incorrect) accusation. "Would you just keep your eyes on the road?"

                      "I've got another 23 seconds before that light turns green. You want to play 21 questions while we wait? I'll start. If you had to choose between having sex with me or Dr. Simon-"

                      "House!" Wilson exclaimed, desperate to prevent the man from finishing that ridiculous question. "You really don't know when to stop do you?"

                      "I suppose that would give evidence as to why I've been likened to a seven year old so often. I always assumed it was thanks to my bright personality and innocent mind but stubbornness is a good point as well."

                      Wilson furrowed his brow and gave House a sharp look. "If I admitted I was even a tiny bit attracted to you, would it get you to shut up?"

                      House looked upward as if in deep thought. "Hmmm... Probably not," he said with an exaggerated simper, "But it would make the drive a bit more interesting, don't you think?"

                      Wilson rolled his eyes and threw his head back in defeat. Arguing and trying to talk House into dropping a subject was next to impossible. The man wasn't going to let Wilson go until he had an answer and technically the oncologist hadn't even denied the accusation. _That's fine, Jimmy_ , he thought to himself, _You've dug yourself a nice hole. May as well bury yourself in it_.

                      "Y'know what? Fine." Wilson declared as he sat back upright and looked at House with a serious expression just before the light turned green, "Yes. I think you're attractive."

                      House's smirk grew unrealistically wide and arrogant. His eyes, however, were unusually soft. "I knew it."

                      Wilson's attention was drawn to the car behind him as a horn blared, signaling the stranger's impatience. Wilson reached over and forced House to face forward. "As happy as I am for you, green lights typically mean go," Wilson snapped. His words were bitter and a little aggressive. But he couldn't help it. He was embarrassed and worried because he had foolishly fallen right into House's trap and actually admitted he was attracted to him.

                      Wilson sat back in silence as House drove, a drive that lasted no longer than two minutes before he turned into the dimly lit, empty parking lot of a Burger King. The oncologist's face contorted in confusion as House parked the car and turned to look at him. "I thought we were going to hit the drive-thru..."

                      "We were," House responded casually, "But that was before you had to go and admit you have a thing for me."

                      Wilson's cheek's flushed, his chestnut eyes clearly reflecting just how nervous and guilty he felt for allowing himself to be coaxed into saying such a thing. "Look," Wilson managed to say as calmly as possible, "I'm sorry I even mentioned it. I never would have said anything if you hadn't gone on provoking me-" Wilson stopped, his expression changing from a controlled calm to complete vexation as he noticed an odd gleam in House's brilliant eyes and a tiny grin pulling at the man's lips. "What are you... Why are you looking at me like that?" Wilson's heart began racing, growing more erratic the longer he held eye contact. He'd never seen House look at him this way. It was mysterious and knowing yet... _Seductive_? No, no, that couldn't be right. House was just toying with him. He had to be. Right?

                      Wilson's tongue darted out to wet his lips, an irritating habit he had developed in times of nervousness or arousal. In this case, he was experiencing both feelings at once.

                      "Track nine," House murmured unexpectedly, his rugged voice low.

                      Wilson, however, was lost. "What?" He furrowed his brow, completely perplexed by House's latest utterance.

                      Surprisingly enough, House was patient with Wilson's lack of understanding. His eyes remained mysteriously soft and his mouth gave no indication of an on-coming scowl. "Skip to track nine."

                      The oncologist gave him a questioning glance before leaning forward and toying with the cassette player House had installed until he came to track nine. The second the song began, Wilson's heart took a leap of faith in his chest. The all-too-familiar sound of the rhythmic bass and sexy exhales of "Time of the Season" consumed the silence between them, leaving Wilson staring at House with wide, questioning eyes. Why in God's name would House want him to put on _this_ song?

                      The answer to Wilson's question came quickly and without a single word. It come in a form he was all too sane to even consider: a kiss.

                      Before he even had the chance to ask House about the song choice or the reason he was behaving so bizarre, the diagnostician had leaned over and pressed his lips to Wilson's. It was soft, chaste, and altogether completely unexpected. Wilson nearly went into cardiac _and_ pulmonary arrest, his breath hitching harshly as House's rough facial hair gently scratched against the skin around his mouth. As much as he craved having House's mouth on his, he couldn't accept it. It was too good to be true.

                      "Wh-what are you doing?" He nearly yelped in surprise, pushing House back with hesitant hands.

                      House furrowed his brow. "Kissing you, obviously."

                      Wilson blinked. His breathing was quick and almost labored from the shock. "Yeah, I can see that but _why_?"

                      "This may come as a surprise to you," House whispered sarcastically, "But apparently when two people are attracted to one another they have a tendency to kiss."

                      "Wait. So you're saying..."

                      "I'm saying you think I'm attractive and I desperately want to pin you against a wall and kiss you senseless." House said lowly, his voice rough and laced with lust, "So are you on the same page or not?"

                      Wilson was certain his lungs were failing and his heart was going to burst through his chest like one of those grotesque scenes from the _Alien_ films. House was attracted to him too and now he wanted to make-out in his Corvette while parked behind a Burger King. There was clearly only one possible response to House's question now.

                      "Oh God, yes," he gasped.

                      The gap between them was immediately eliminated as they dove in for another kiss, this time more heated and hungry than the first. Wilson's heart was racing but despite the pounding in his ear, he could hear the music that had enveloped them in the car.

_What's your name?_

_Who's your daddy?_

_Is he rich like me?_

_Has he taken any time,_

_to show you what you need to live?_

                      Wilson let out a low moan as House's long fingers found their way into his hair, gently tugging on the brown locks. The oncologist was no longer certain as to whether he was alive on Earth or dead in heaven. If he was in heaven, he desperately hoped no higher power brought him back to life. If he was alive, well, God he hoped nothing took that life away from him. This is what he wanted to experience for the remainder of his days. He wanted House and nothing else.

                      When House pulled away to latch onto the oncologist's neck, Wilson clutched at the back of his leather jacket. "I'm never...going to be able to, mmmm...hear this song again without thinking about you..." He panted.

                      House hummed contently, vibrating the flesh beneath his lips. "Track 11 is even better," House murmured before nipping at Wilson's neck.

                      Wilson pried his right hand from House's jacket and slammed the search button to jump to the eleventh track. The instant the guitar of Foghat's "I Just Want to Make Love to You" began, Wilson groaned. "Of all the damn songs..." He whispered huskily, "You had to pick- _Ahh_..." He exhaled loudly, unable to finish his sentence thanks to the arousing sensation of House sucking at his Adam's apple.

                      Wilson allowed him to ravish every inch of his neck before impatiently pushing House back and climbing into the man's lap. House's eyes seemed to go pitch black with arousal upon seeing Wilson settle on top of him. Even lustful and desperate, Wilson had been careful and kept most of his weight from resting upon the diagnostician's bad leg. Sure he was a needy man, but that didn't stop him from being a caregiver.

                      He took House's scruffy face into his hands and leaned down to resume the hungry kissing they had ceased far too early. He also began rocking his hips, creating a tantalizing friction between them.

                      "You know..." Wilson panted into the diagnostician's mouth, "As much as I love this car... I'd much rather be riding you..."

                      His bold, filthy words earned him a particularly loud moan from the graying doctor. House wrapped his arms around Wilson's waist and slid his hands down to firmly squeeze his ass through his trousers which immediately elicited a gasp from his counterpart. Wilson rocked his hips harder, desperate to increase the pleasuring friction. Even through their clothes, he could feel the bulge of House's erection rubbing against his own. Oh God this was a dream come true. Well, perhaps more like a fantasy come true, but that wasn't the point at all. He was getting what he wanted. He was getting House.

                      Wilson's mind was in overload trying to process everything happening to him and around him. The kisses, the touches, the moans, the pleasure, the music. The combination was enough for even the great mind of Dr. House to be forced to shut out all tangent thoughts. He'd definitely have to keep that in mind the next time he wanted House to shut his mouth...

                      Wilson's pupils dilated drastically as he felt House's finger hook in his trousers and give them a tug. The diagnostician wanted them off. Oh _fuck_. He couldn't strip. Not here. Not in public. But he could at least give him something to touch.

                      He withdrew his hand from the man's scruffy jaw and hastily undid his belt before popping the button of his trousers and unzipping them. House, of course, had to watch. He broke their kiss and watched with dark eyes as Wilson pushed both his trousers and his briefs down past his hips in order to free his aching cock. It was only a matter of seconds before House's calloused hand took a hold of the newly-exposed member, an action that forced every bit of oxygen from Wilson's body. Now there was a sight to see: Gregory House giving him a hand job in his Corvette.

                      "Who knew you were keeping something so impressive from me all this time," House teased quietly, "Shame on you Dr. Wilson..."

                      "Shame on you for making me wai- Nnnnnnn..." His retort was completely cut off by a groan as House gave him a pleasing squeeze. God, he was putty in this man's hands.

                      Wilson's eyes wandered down to lock on the hand that was now slowly pumping him. Sure it was sexy just having House give him a hand job. But watching those long, expert fingers work his cock was all the more erotic. And House's touch was perfect. He knew exactly where to squeeze, where to stroke his thumb, how hard he needed to rub, and how quick he needed to flick his wrist. If by some miracle Wilson had managed to open his mouth and said that it was the best hand job of his life, he sure as hell wouldn't be lying.

                      But few comprehensible words could pass through the oncologist's lips. The only things that slipped out of his mouth while House pleasured him were moans, groans, gasps, and an occasional "oh God".

                      It wasn't long after House began that Wilson came to the realization that this experience was far too one-sided. House was just as in-need of pleasure as he was. He couldn't just sit back and let House do all the work.

                      He reached down and fumbled with House's jeans, hands unsteady thanks to the pleasure of the hand still steadily stroking his cock. It took him a long moment to unbutton and unzip the fly of the man's jeans before he was finally able to coax them down and pull out House's erect member. It was almost exactly as he had imagined: more slender yet longer than his own cock and precisely what Wilson wanted.

                      The oncologist wrapped his finger's around House's cock and gave it a slow, tantalizing stroke, eliciting a long groan from his partner. Now they were both getting somewhere. Perfect.

                      Wilson readjusted himself in House's lap and lined their cocks up, taking a hold of both of them. House seemed completely surprised, his own hand ceasing altogether as he watched the oncologist take charge of the situation. Wilson didn't wait for House to catch up either. He was far too desperate to wait for anything at this point. So he immediately began rocking his hips once again. This time the friction was directly between their exposed flesh and God did it feel _good_.

                      Both men's breathing was loud and labored, the only thing successfully drowning them out being the sounds of Def Leppard blasting out of the car radio. The entire scenario was completely ridiculous. Here were two grown men getting it on in the driver's seat of a Corvette like a pair of high school students tainting their parent's car after prom. Not to mention the fact that said car was a convertible. Anyone who happened to walk around the backside of that Burger King would be in for a real surprise. Normally, Wilson would have been completely embarrassed and shied far away from the idea of sex in public. But right now he needed House and the mere prospect of having someone see them made the situation all the more erotic.

                      Wilson let out a loud moan as House's hand covered his own and forced him to grip tighter and pump faster. " _God_..." Wilson breathed out in a raspy voice, "You're too good at this..."

                      "And you moan like a whore," House growled as he quickened the movement of his hand.

                      "Sh-shut up, you basta- Ahhhh _fuck_."

                      A smirk pulled at House's lips for a brief moment before his mouth was forced open by a particularly firm stroke. Every flick of House's wrist and buck of Wilson's hips was perfect, driving them both straight to the edge. One little push and they would tumble over it and fall headlong into the waves of pure ecstasy. And the push that forced Wilson over came in the form of House's husky voice.

                      "James..." House whispered breathlessly, "Come for me..."

                      That was it. Hearing House utter his name and ask him to come was too much for him to fight. He gave one final, hard buck of his hips before throwing his head back with a sharp gasp as he came.

                      The sight of Wilson's pleasured face and mussed hair being tossed back was the final push for House. His toes curled in his shoes and his hips instinctively bucked upward, cock spasming beneath their grasps as a sound that resembled a strangled sob was forced from his throat.

                      Both men went quiet, the only sounds escaping them being their quick breaths. They were completely overwhelmed, minds turned to mush thanks to the incredible orgasms they had brought each other. It wasn't until the tape began playing the next song ("Gimme Shelter" by the Rolling Stones) that Wilson let out a breathless laugh and spoke. "Did we just have sex in a Burger King parking lot?"

                      As Wilson expected, House's signature smirk eased its way onto his face. "It's your fault," the diagnostician teased lowly, "You couldn't keep it in your pants."

                      "Yeah, says the man who seduced me with the Zombies."

                      "It was either that or ZZ Top. Frankly I think I made a wise decision."

                      Wilson couldn't help but smile, his hand mindlessly caressing the man's neck. "I think you need to shut up and take me back to your apartment before I decide to climb out of this car and order myself a Whopper."

                      "Just what I need: a man whose kiss is laced with sodium and mayonnaise," House quipped playfully.

                      Wilson rolled his eyes and proceeded to cover House back up, carefully pulling his underwear and jeans back on before climbing out of the man's lap and properly dressing himself back up. As he redid his belt, he finally noticed the splotches of semen on his shirt. "God, I hope that comes out," he mumbled, "This is my best shirt."

                      "Still want to go in for that whopper?" House asked with a shit-eating grin.

                      "Are you going to drive or am I going to have to take back what I said about riding your sorry ass?" Wilson countered, with a mischievous look in his dusky eyes.

                      House didn't wait another second. In the blink of an eye he had the car in drive and was peeling out of the parking lot, electric-blue eyes twinkling with new-found joy. As he watched House drive, Wilson beamed. He finally got what he had been wanting. He had House and the only way the evening could get any better was if he went for another ride. _Only this time there better not be any clothes involved_ , Wilson thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Be gentle, y'all. This is my first explicit Hilson fic so I'm still getting a feel for the sexual tendencies between the two.
> 
> For those of you who are unfamiliar with the music I referenced in this fic, I highly recommend you take a listen!  
> Music Links:  
> 1) All Along the Watchtower - Jimi Hendrix (http://youtu.be/TLV4_xaYynY)  
> 2) Time of the Season - The Zombies (http://youtu.be/7JM2ghmhGk0)  
> 3) I Just Want to Make Love to You - Foghat (http://youtu.be/ziiDkT165zI)  
> 4) Pour Some Sugar on Me - Def Leppard (http://youtu.be/RaG8faaFUMM)  
> 5) Gimme Shelter - Rolling Stones (http://youtu.be/WJDnJ0vXUgw)


End file.
